✓ Question Two.
Define— A HERO.
A. A hero is someone who saves people.
B. A hero puts others before themselves.
C. A hero is not someone who saves everyone… but someone who decides who is worth saving.
D. A hero is someone who never gives up.
Ns: Give your own definition (optional).
"Hmmm."
"All wrong."
"They are all like characteristics a hero's supposed to have…"
"…but horrible as a definition."
His gaze shifted.
"And the options are—"
"What…?"
He blinked.
Not again.
"I didn't think too much…"
"Nor did I doubt…"
"So why—"
He read again.
Define yourself.
His eyes widened slightly.
His hand trembled—
Then stopped.
A whisper brushed past.
Simple.
You know the answer already.
"No… I don't…"
His voice came faint.
Coward.
Weak.
Silence.
Tia's gaze stilled.
No anger.
No denial.
Just—
Clarity.
"…Doesn't matter."
The word cut clean.
The whispers—
Stopped.
Like they had never existed.
Tia lowered his gaze back to the paper.
His expression didn't change.
He let out a slow breath.
His pen moved.
'I am giving my own definition.'
'A hero is someone who sacrifices others… so that more can live.
That would have been my answer, but…
It would be too cruel for a student to say.
So this should do.
A hero is someone who makes uncertain decisions and faces the consequences.'
'I am still trying to understand why I heard those whispers even when I didn't think.
This question looks simple on the surface, but deeper it differentiates the weak from the poor.
Weak answers mean automatic failure.
Strong answers mean partial failure—too good to be true.'
He stopped.
His eyes moved to the timer.
02:02:00
2 hours left.
"…Ah."
I should hasten up.
His pen moved~
Finally.
✓ The last question.
"What qualifies an individual to pass the Contamination Trial?"
Silence.
"What kind of question is that…?"
Tia didn't write.
…Qualifies.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
Not 'how to pass.'
Not 'what to do.'
What qualifies you to.
A pause.
His gaze lowered to the paper.
Contamination…
A whisper brushed past his ear.
Wrong.
Tia didn't react.
…No.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
Tia's fingers tapped once.
Illusions… triggered by doubt.
A faint breath escaped him.
And once it begins—
the student can no longer distinguish reality from illusion.
His gaze steadied.
Even the best question themselves.
A beat.
And the moment they do—
They're already gone.
His grip on the pen tightened slightly.
What do they all have in common…?
A pause.
Then—
Fear of being wrong.
The need to be right.
His eyes sharpened.
That's what triggers everything.
He picked up his pen.
And wrote—
"The key to the Contamination Trial is—"
A pause.
Then—
"The mind."
Ink settled.
He added one final line.
"Failure begins the moment the mind fractures."
"Once it does—recovery is impossible."
He placed the pen down.
Silence.
For the first time—
No whispers.
No distortion.
Just—
Stillness.
Seconds passed.
Then—
The walls began to fade.
So did everything within them.
The desk.
The chair.
Even the paper in his hands—
Its surface cracked.
The words broke apart—
And drifted into dust.
Gone.
Light bled through.
The space opened.
Students reappeared.
Some laughing.
Relieved.
Others—
Shaking.
Faces pale.
Eyes unfocused.
Like they had just crawled out of something dark.
"…What the hell was that…"
"I thought I was going insane…"
Tia stood still.
Then exhaled.
"…That was quite exhausting."
************
Moments later—
She appeared.
"Congratulations."
Her voice cut clean.
"To those who remain."
Silence fell instantly.
"You are dismissed."
A pause.
"The results will be announced tomorrow."
Her gaze swept across them.
Cold.
Unwavering.
"I suggest some of you begin packing."
No explanation.
"This academy will have fewer of you by tomorrow."
No reassurance.
She turned.
And left.
Just like that.
The tension deepened.
More than it should.